Eatin Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte

Crow; and The Best Man In
Garotte, by Frank Harris

Project Gutenberg's Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte, by
Frank Harris This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost
and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it
away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License
included with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
Title: Eatin' Crow; and The Best Man In Garotte
Author: Frank Harris
Release Date: October 12, 2007 [EBook #23011]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK EATIN'
CROW ***

Produced by David Widger

EATIN' CROW, AND THE BEST MAN IN GAROTTE.
By Frank Harris

EATIN' CROW.
The evening on which Charley Muirhead made his first appearance at
Doolan's was a memorable one; the camp was in wonderful spirits.
Whitman was said to have struck it rich. Garotte, therefore, might yet
become popular in the larger world, and its evil reputation be removed.
Besides, what Whitman had done any one might do, for by common
consent he was a "derned fool." Good-humour accordingly reigned at
Doolan's, and the saloon was filled with an excited, hopeful crowd. Bill
Bent, however, was anything but pleased; he generally was in a bad
temper, and this evening, as Crocker remarked carelessly, he was
"more ornery than ever." The rest seemed to pay no attention to the
lanky, dark man with the narrow head, round, black eyes, and rasping
voice. But Bent would croak: "Whitman's struck nothin'; thar ain't no
gold in Garotte; it's all work and no dust." In this strain he went on,
offending local sentiment and making every one uncomfortable.
Muirhead's first appearance created a certain sensation. He was a fine
upstanding fellow of six feet or over, well made, and good-looking. But
Garotte had too much experience of life to be won by a stranger's
handsome looks. Muirhead's fair moustache and large blue eyes
counted for little there. Crocker and others, masters in the art of judging
men, noticed that his eyes were unsteady, and his manner, though
genial, seemed hasty. Reggitt summed up their opinion in the phrase,
"looks as if he'd bite off more'n he could chaw." Unconscious of the
criticism, Muirhead talked, offered drinks, and made himself agreeable.
At length in answer to Bent's continued grumbling, Muirhead said
pleasantly: "'Tain't so bad as that in Garotte, is it? This bar don't look
like poverty, and if I set up drinks for the crowd, it's because I'm glad to
be in this camp."
"P'r'aps you found the last place you was in jes' a leetle too warm, eh?"
was Bent's retort.
Muirhead's face flushed, and for a second he stood as if he had been
struck. Then, while the crowd moved aside, he sprang towards Bent,
exclaiming, "Take that back--right off! Take it back!"

"What?" asked Bent coolly, as if surprised; at the same time, however,
retreating a pace or two, he slipped his right hand behind him.
Instantly Muirhead threw himself upon him, rushed him with what
seemed demoniac strength to the open door and flung him away out on
his back into the muddy ditch that served as a street. For a moment
there was a hush of expectation, then Bent was seen to gather himself
up painfully and move out of the square of light into the darkness. But
Muirhead did not wait for this; hastily, with hot face and hands still
working with excitement, he returned to the bar with:
"That's how I act. No one can jump me. No one, by God!" and he
glared round the room defiantly. Reggitt, Harrison, and some of the
others looked at him as if on the point of retorting, but the cheerfulness
was general, and Bent's grumbling before a stranger had irritated them
almost as much as his unexpected cowardice. Muirhead's challenge was
not taken up, therefore, though Harrison did remark, half sarcastically:
"That may be so. You jump them, I guess."
"Well, boys, let's have the drink," Charley Muirhead went on, his
manner suddenly changing to that of friendly greeting, just as if he had
not heard Harrison's words.
The men moved up to the bar and drank, and before the liquor was
consumed, Charley's geniality, acting on the universal good-humour,
seemed to have done away with the discontent which his violence and
Bent's cowardice had created. This was the greater tribute to his
personal charm, as the refugees of Garotte usually hung together, and
were inclined to resent promptly any insult offered to one of their
number by a stranger. But in the present case harmony seemed to be
completely reestablished, and it would have taken a keener observer
than Muirhead to have understood his own position and the general
opinion. It